Writing For Tomorrow Or Today?

I wrote Saturday at Biblical Human about the problem of being future oriented while being concerned to live today.

You may be like that, thinking always about your goals and the day when all your dreams come true, meanwhile, your life is passing you by faster than you want to admit. (Just look at pictures of your kids from 5 years ago. Where were you!)

Now I'm thinking about this from the writer's lens.

If you're a growth oriented writer, you might undervalue today's writing experience while you are training yourself for tomorrow's.

I want to think about this problem in terms of growth as a writer. But first, music.

I studied voice and sang opera. There was always a technique, sound, and capability (like singing high notes for a long time) that I was aspiring to.

Before I got to the very highest level, God called me to be a pastor and I left the career.

So, I'll never know what would have happened if I'd gotten to the very top of my potential.

But if I had, is that when I would have started to enjoy singing?

I bet not.

Since I wouldn't know I was at my best, I'd still be trying for higher notes, more beautiful tones, and deeper and more captivating interpretations.

Sigh.

Now, about writing. It's a little different for me, because I did not aspire to be a writer.

It happened to me because people started paying me to write and I didn't even think about whether I was good at it, or how good I could get at it, or even whether I was making art. I was making money and helping people.

But now…

I'm starting to like it, and I'm aspiring to be better. To be great, even.

Why?

Why not? What could be more exciting than finding out what you could do if you tried your hardest?

But will writing become what singing was? Perpetually disappointing, even when others thought it was good?

I sure hope not. Because this is my life—today.

I want to make art—today.

I want to enjoy life today, be successful today, feed my family today. I want to do the best I can today. I want to live today. It might be my last.

And besides, If I can’t be satisfied with life or writing today, what makes me think I’ll be satisfied in five years? When everyday’s the beginning of your new five year plan, you never arrive at the end of one.

It remains to be seen if I'll achieve this, but if I do, I’ll need a plan!

Here is my plan (not my five year plan, but my 1 day plan).

1. Write in the Spirit

I'm learning something. There's an intersection where flow meets the presence of God.

Pray, wait, write in the Spirit. Write your way into it.

When I write from this place I'm not striving for tomorrow's greatness. I'm participating in today's glory. The words that come are not just mine. They're gifts I get to pass along to others.

2. Love my reader—today, right now

Every morning, I'm making a choice to love whoever reads my words. Not my future bestseller readers (ha!). Not some imagined ideal audience.

You.

The actual person reading this actual sentence right now. (I love you, man! Or woman!)

This is what I teach my writing students. When I write from love instead of ambition my words become generous. Clear. Human. They serve instead of trying to impress. They give instead of take. Readers feel seen and trust me more, and I enjoy the day and having done something that may be a value to someone.

This might be the greatest key to writing that actually matters.

3. Write like it's my last day

What if this newsletter post is the last thing I'll ever write?

This isn't morbid—it's clarifying. It strips away all my "I'll do better tomorrow" excuses and forces me to give my best right now. Not my future best. My today best.

The Paradox

By releasing my death grip on future greatness, I'm actually more likely to grow. When I write in the Spirit, love my reader, and treat each day's work as potentially final, I'm fully alive, and growth in any area just happens.

It’s not that I’ll never think about something I’m trying to achieve in the future, but I can’t live there 24/7.

The future? Not mine to control. But I can plant good seeds today. Not anxiously. Not desperately. Just faithfully, one word at a time.

So here's a question for you: What would you write if you knew it was your last chance? Think about it. Now go write it.

Don't wait for tomorrow. Tomorrow you isn't here yet. But today you has something to say.

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